Holy shit debonairs, check this. 300 quid for a patchwork vest? Are you invited to that game? I mean, doubtless, it’s an exclusive membership list. I think it’s appropriate for only two types of bro. Guys who already own every other conceivable item of clothing. And the professionally idiotic. Which one are you? Shit. Which one am I for that matter?
When I finally get round to my planned Charlie And The Chocolate Factory re-make, I’ll have all the Oompa-Loompas in these. It’s like a cartoon illustration of a waistcoat. I’ve seen less ‘fucking-look-at-me’ garms on Mr Tumble.
Of course the alternative perspective is, it’s savage fire. Wearing this, you could just stride into the pub and over to your mates’ table, throw your arms wide like you’re gonna metamorphose into a god-like mix of pure energy and thought and just say, “what the fucking fuck dawgs?” And you know what. They wouldn’t laugh at you. They’d just stare into their drinks, silently respecting your ass. They’d know, a new leader was born.
If that sounds like where you wanna be in life, toss your coins here. And, if you’re short and unnaturally orange, drop me a line. I might have some work for you.